Intergalactic
by Ms. Goodfellow
Summary: Commander Grimm does not need a partner for her upcoming journey to Jupiter. She especially doesn't need her partner to be the cocky, know-it-all rookie Goodfellow. For Ember53608's contest!


**_Prompt_ : _"_ I can't believe I'm sitting in space jail with you of all people."**

* * *

"Commander Grimm!"

I turned my head around at the shout, locking eyes with my sweaty assistant who was racing over to me with a huge stack of papers cradled to his chest. He handed me the papers, which were warped a bit from the sweat of his hands, while I waited for him to catch his breath and tell me why I was suddenly the recipient of about 1,000 documents.

"What are these, Gordon?" I said skeptically, eyeing the stack with apprehension. It was almost my weekend, 3 days of uninterrupted bliss spent at my swanky apartment watching Netflix and eating anything that found it's way into my pantry. My last few weekends had been spent working on the new project, leaving no time to relax or anything. But this weekend, I'd insisted that I would be staying home. Not a soul would see me between Friday and Sunday.

Gordon sucked in a breath. I swear, the man was 5'11 and could not possibly weigh more than 200 pounds, but he was constantly sweaty and panting for breath, as if he had just come back from running a half-marathon.

"New rookie...just submitted yesterday….he's already gone through training and everything," he puffed.

I made a face. "Why does this concern me?"

Gordon took a deep, long breath, finally catching his wind. I struggled not to roll my eyes. "He's your new partner."

My new partner? Nobody said _anything_ to me about a partner.

"What are you talking about? I don't need a partner. I don't want a partner. I like working alone."

Gordon's beady eyes darted around nervously. "Uh...the boss just thinks it might be a good idea cause of...you know."

"Because of _what_ , Gordon?" I felt my eyes narrow.

"You know...the whole miscarriage thing."

I let out a quiet gasp. "What does my miscarriage have to do with _anything_? It was over 6 months ago," I hissed.

Gordon swallowed loudly. "The boss just thinks you've been under a lot of stress...you know, from the miscarriage and then the divorce-"

"Shut up! Stop throwing around the gritty details of my personal life like some, gossip tabloid!" I interrupted, gripping his shoulder menacingly.

He shrunk away. "S-sorry, Commander. I'm just saying what the boss said to me."

"Well, I think I might need to have a word or two with the boss."

* * *

If you had asked me about my life on my 26th birthday, I probably would have told you that my life was wonderful. I was a newlywed, I had just bought my very first house, and I had been promoted as Commander for Nasa's next big space expedition. Everything was going great for me. Well, except for one thing.

My husband, Bradley, wanted kids. He wanted a lot of them, and he wanted them right away. He wanted to start a family with me. I, on the other hand, was skeptical. We had just gotten married; I had barely been ready for marriage, let alone children. Don't get me wrong, I want children. But I didn't want them then. I didn't want to jeopardize my job; pregnant women and new mothers can't go to space.

It was wrong of me to lie to Bradley. I can admit that. But I was too scared to stand up for myself. I told him I was going off my birth control, but in reality, I wasn't. We tried to get pregnant for a while, but obviously, to no avail. Bradley was frustrated. He didn't know why I couldn't get pregnant. He spent a ton of money on medications and special remedies that were supposed to help me, but I didn't stop taking the pill.

I was feeling pretty bad about myself. I felt awful for lying to him, right to his face. But I didn't want to disappoint him. Things were...not going well for us. And then, something changed. I got pregnant.

I had thought it was impossible. I had been taking the pill, but with all the efforts to get me pregnant, the 2% chance of me becoming pregnant had become the reality. I was shocked, scared, and angry. I didn't want to be a mother! I wasn't ready!

When I told Bradley, he was ecstatic. I'd never seen him happier. He didn't even sense my discomfort or nervousness. He was so glad I had finally become pregnant.

And then, three months into the pregnancy, I miscarried. I didn't mean for it to happen; I didn't purposefully sabotage my pregnancy. It happened randomly, naturally. I was relieved. I was sad the baby had been lost, but I hadn't been ready for motherhood.

Needless to say, Bradley was devastated. I'd never seen him like that before. He was desperate to try again; for me to immediately become pregnant again. Finally, I broke down and told him the truth. About how I had lied to him, and how I didn't want kids, but I had gotten pregnant accidentally.

He grew resentful and angry. He accused me of killing our baby on purpose; he hated me for taking "his baby away from him". It was awful. I'd never felt worse in my life. I withdrew from Bradley, and he withdrew from me, in return.

5 months later, we were divorced.

I was sad, of course. I had really loved him. But we were just too different. I swore off dating for the next 2 years, deciding instead to focus on my career as an astronaut. It was rough for a few months, but eventually I got used to being single again.

3 weeks ago, as my 27th birthday came and went, I realized I was doing okay. I was ready for my next expedition as Commander, and I was perfectly content with my uneventful, even dull life.

Little did I know, that was all about to change.

* * *

"Dr. Valencia!" I exclaimed, barging into the cluttered office without warning.

Seated at his desk, intently working, Dr. Valencia paid no attention to me. His eyes moved left to right at an impossible speed as he scanned the pages of the book he was reading.

I stood in front of his desk with my arms crossed, trying to look as annoyed as possible. "Ahem?" I said, cocking my hip to the side. He still didn't look up.

"A-HEMMM?" I tried again, much louder and obnoxiously this time.

Dr. Valencia let out an irritated sigh and slowly lifted his gaze to meet mine. "Yes, Commander Grimm?"

"Please, do tell me, _why_ you think I need a partner for a one-man mission I am very capable of doing myself?"

"I knew you would handle this well, Grimm," he drawled sarcastically.

"I have a right to handle this angrily because I was told that it would just be _me_ going up there!"

Dr. Valencia rose from his chair, walking around his desk until he was next to me. "Grimm, why is it that you are so against having a partner?"

"I just...like to be alone. Partners slow you down. And I've never even met this guy. What if he's annoying?"

"Commander Goodfellow is n-"

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "So _he's_ a Commander, too? Hasn't he only been here for like, 3 days?!"

Dr. Valencia chuckled, which only made me even angrier. "He's been here for a few months now, Sabrina. He's very smart and I think you guys will get along well together if you put in the effort."

"Well," I sneered. "I'm not putting in any effort. It's not my job here to make friends."

"You're right; it's not. But you may as well try to get along with Commander Goodfellow. He'll be your only source of companionship for quite a few weeks."

"You just think I'm unstable, huh? Sure, any man in this facility could go through a divorce and miscarriage, but I doubt you would be as unfair to them as you are being to me," I said forcefully.

He put a hand on my shoulder. "You realize that the reason I gave you a partner is because of how you are acting now? You've been on edge since your divorce. I try not to dive into personal matters here, you know that, but I simply cannot allow you to go on a mission by yourself. Even the most mentally stable of men can lose themselves in an instant when stuck on a tiny shuttle for weeks upon weeks."

I took a sharp breath, lowering my eyes to the floor. "You're right, Dr. I should be grateful I'm even going on this mission. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. You're this department's top Commander. It'd be a shame and a waste of time if it wasn't you on this mission."

I looked up at him and smiled, taking a seat on the chair next to me. "So, tell me about this _Commander Goodfellow_."

* * *

 ** _5 weeks later_**

"I know how to do it! Let me do it!" I grunted, shoving him away from the control panel.

"I wanted to do it! You know I wanted to!" he whined, trying to reach over me to the over-whelming amount of buttons directly in front of me.

" _Take off in: 5 minutes."_ Came the computerized voice from our headsets.

This is a good representation of how the past five weeks had gone. Contrary to Dr. Valencia's belief, Commander Goodfellow and I did NOT get along. And now, here we were, five minutes from launching ourselves into literal outer space, and we were arguing over who gets to control the steering.

"Did you hear that, Goodfellow? We are launching in five minutes! So stop trying to take the controls from me or we are going to die!" I screamed over the sound of generators starting.

"Just let me have them!" he yelled back, leaning over once more. I let out an annoyed grunt and shoved him back into his chair with my foot.

"Commanders," came the crackly voice of Dr. Valencia over our headsets. "Please refrain from arguing. Commander Grimm gets the controls."

Goodfellow clicked on his microphone. "Why? You told me I could!"

"I lied," he responded. "Now, focus. Take off in 2 minutes."

Goodfellow slumped down into his seat with a huff. I smiled smugly at him, to which he responded with the middle finger.

"Real mature," I mumbled.

"Hypocritical, much?" he responded.

" _Take off in: 1 minute."_

"Put your seatbelt on, Goodfellow. I'm not going to spend the next 10 weeks with your dead body floating around in here," I said, gripping the steering shaft. The entire shuttle was rumbling.

" _Take off in: 30 seconds."_

"Good luck out there. We'll be counting down the days 'til you're back," crackled Dr. Valencia. I smiled and nodded to assure myself.

" _Take off in: 5...4...3...2...1…"_

"Holy shit!" I heard Puck yell as the shuttle began to shake uncontrollably. "Are we gonna die right now?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm trying to focus!" I yelled back.

I looked out the tiny window next to me. We were definitely taking off. The ground seemed to get farther and farther away by the second. I let out a nervous sigh.

"What's the matter? Scared?" taunted Puck.

"Now's not the time!" I screamed, yanking as hard as I could on the steering. I was trained to do this. This is what I had been working towards for so long, and it was finally happening. I let out a happy, somewhat maniacal laugh.

"Oh, I'm just so glad I got assigned to do this mission with you, Grimm," he said sarcastically.

I smiled. "That's Commander Grimm to you, Goodfellow."

* * *

 _ **6 hours later**_

"Look! A meteor!"

"Yes, Goodfellow. That _is_ a meteor. The 5,000th one you've pointed out to me today, in fact. I am very aware we are in outer space, you know. I see all the same meteors you do."

Puck gave me a frown. "Lighten up."

"This is a space mission. It's a time for seriousness."

"All work and no play makes Puck a dull boy,"

I sighed. "Can you please quote anything but _The Shining_? A horror movie in which a man and woman are stuck somewhere for a long time? Doesn't that situation hit a little too close to home?"

It was Puck's turn to sigh. "The woman escaped just fine."

"Yeah, after she was about to be killed by her insane husband!"

"Well," Puck grinned. "It's a good thing we aren't husband and wife, then."

I let out a frustrated growl. "You are so annoying."

"You know you find me charming."

"Ha! As if _I_ would ever find _you_ charming!" I snorted, pretending to gag.

Puck frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but a sudden loud alarm cut him off. I quickly stuffed my fingers into my ears, wincing from the sheer volume of the sound.

"What's going on?!" I heard Puck scream as red lights began to flash in our shuttle.

I took a deep breath and unplugged my ears, knowing I needed my hands to figure out the problem. My fingers flew across the control panel, desperately trying to solve the problem.

"See?" I heard Puck yell. "If they had just let _me_ steer!"

I shook my head, trying to ignore him. Only he would say something stupid like that in a dire situation like this.

Despite how much I tried, the noise refused to stop. I looked for every possible answer, but I got nothing. I had no idea what was wrong.

"Grimm!" Puck yelled. I ignored him, knowing he was just going to say something stupid.

"Grimm!" he yelled again. I continued my search for the problem, shaking off his attempts to talk to me.

"Sabrina, you need to look at this! _Now_!"

I swiveled around in my seat, my eyes narrow. "Now is not the time for dumb g-"

"Look!" he cried, eyes wide with terror as he pointed out the window. I frowned and quickly walked over to where he was standing. With a gasp, I realized what was happening.

Stupid, stupid, stupid me. I should've known better.

With a heavy sigh, I sat down in my seat and waited for death to come.

* * *

"Crap. Oh, crap. Grimm, wake up. Grimm come on. Wake up!"

I groaned, feebly attempting to swat away the hand that was prodding at my side. "Go away," I mumbled. "I'm sleeping."

"No, you're not. Wake up!" The hand continued to poke me.

I tried peeling open my eyes, but they refused. My eyelids were too heavy. I was so tired…

"Oh, man. Crap. Come on, Grimm. You need to wakey-wakey."

"Nooo," I slurred, suddenly developing a fierce headache. "Oww."

"Ow? Why are you saying 'Ow'? Grimm, come..on!"

I felt myself being heaved into a sitting position. "Oww," I murmured again, my head spinning.

"Why are you saying 'Ow'? Tell me, Grimm!"

I stayed silent. My head hurt.

"Fine," I heard the voice say. "I'll give you something to say 'Ow' about."

"OW!" I yelled as my cheek was met with a sudden stinging pain. Now fully conscious, my eyes flashed open. Puck stood there innocently, his hand hovering next to my face.

"Did you just slap me?" I said incredulously, gingerly placing my hand on my cheek.

He chuckled nervously. "I just needed to make sure you were okay."

I gave him a glare. "I'm touched."

"I don't need the sarcasm, Grimm. Especially not right now." Puck let out a sigh and for the first time, I noticed my surroundings.

I was still in the shuttle, no doubt. But the whole thing was mangled and twisted around me. Judging by the darkened windows, piles of dirt, and dust spilling in from all around, we had made a crash landing-directly into the ground.

"What in the world..." I muttered, rising unsteadily to my feet. My head continued to spin like crazy.

"I think we are deep in the ground. I tried to find a way out but we are completely surrounded my dirt. The hole we made must've caved in on us," Puck rambled, his eyes wild.

"How are we supposed to get out of here?" I said quietly, walking over to a small mound of red dirt on the floor. "I think we're on Mars. Well, actually, I know we are on Mars."

I knelt down next to the dirt. Puck walked over and knelt next to me. "Sabrina," he started unsurely. "What happened? Why did we crash?"

I sighed heavily. "It was my fault. I flew the shuttle too close to Mars and it's atmosphere pulled us in. The generators died trying to get us away from the pull, and we plummeted down to Mars."

Puck let out a grunt of frustration. " _Of course_ this happened. _Of course_. I knew I shouldn't have let you steer."

"I...I don't know how I forgot. Gosh, maybe something really is wrong with me. I guess I do need a partner," I mumbled, tracing my finger through the red dust.

Puck gave me a smug smile. "See? You do need me, Mrs. 'I Can Do Missions Without Puck'."

"Just because I said I need a partner doesn't mean I meant you. You're obviously a terrible partner, considering the situation we are in. You should've noticed we were too close."

"That is _not_ my job."

"It actually kind of is. You're an astronaut, too."

Puck groaned and stood up. "What are we supposed to do know?"

"We have to put on our spacesuits. The oxygen levels are going down. It's all leaking out," I said quickly, realizing that it was becoming harder to breath.

"Right!" Puck jogged over towards the small closet that held our suits. "Uhh, they're not here."

"What? What do you mean they aren't there?"

I heard Puck swallow heavily. "They must've fallen out in the crash or something. The closet is completely busted."

"We need those suits! The oxygen is leaking out of here!" I yelled, marching over to where he was standing. He was telling the truth. The mangled closet was empty.

"Shit," I muttered. "We have to conserve the oxygen in here. Plug up the holes and cracks as much as you can with dirt.

Puck grabbed a handful and began filling the holes around us. It was difficult with all the dirt that was already falling in, but we managed to seal everything up to the best of our abilities.

I breathed heavily as I all but collapsed to the floor. The lack of oxygen plus the physical exertion was taking it's toll. Puck sat next to me, also out of breath.

"This is so surreal. This can't be happening to us," he said breathlessly. "How are we going to get out of here?"

"I don't know, Goodfellow," I said exasperatedly. "I can't believe I'm stuck in this...this… this space jail with _you_ of all people."

"Hey!" he cried. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that we are probably going to die in here and the last thing I'm going to see is that stupid grin of yours!"

"Grimm, we are not going to die in here."

"Oh, really? Who is going to rescue us? Who is going to get here in time and dig us out of here before we run out of our already very-depleted oxygen?" I buried my face into my hands, letting out a groan.

"Do you really think we are going to die?" Puck mumbled, his eyes filled with worry.

I sighed heavily. "Let's not talk about it. Whatever happens, happens."

A few minutes passed in silence. "Sabrina?" Puck muttered, breaking the silence.

"What?" I couldn't help but notice he called me Sabrina, instead of Grimm. It felt strange. I swallowed nervously.

"If we get out of this-"

" _When_ we get out of this, Goodfellow."

"Okay," he sighed. "When we get out of this, do you maybe want to go on a date sometime?"

I looked at him suspiciously. "What?"

"Um, nevermind."

"Did you just ask me on a date?" I said, smiling slightly.

"No."

"I'm pretty sure you did. I heard you say it."

"Just forget it, Grimm."

"Why would _you_ want to go on a date with _me_?" I asked.

He let out another sigh. "I don't know. I just think you're alright."

"Well," I started. He gave me a hopeful glance. "I've sworn off dating for a while…"

"Because of your divorce?" he asked casually.

"Who told you about my divorce?" I nearly shrieked.

"Gordon."

"Gordon," I growled. "Of course. When we get back to Earth I'm going to rip hi-"

"Anyways," Puck interrupted. "It's fine. I understand."

"No," I said unsurely. "I'll...think about it."

He gave me a smile. "I have another question."

"Ugh, what is it?"

"Since we may possibly be dead in an hour or so, can I kiss you?"

" _Excuse_ me?"

He grinned cheekily. "Please? I'd rather not die all sad and lonely."

"Fine. But this is strictly platonic."

"Sure, Grimm. Whatever you say," he laughed, leaning in.

Doomed or not, that was an awesome kiss.

* * *

 **I seriously had no clue how to end this. So I decided to leave the end up to your own imaginations!**

 **Anyways, this was for Ember's contest! I'm not really sure how I feel about this one-shot, but idkkkkk! Also, fyi, I know nothing about actual space travel or NASA or anything so the inaccuracy is _real_ , people.**

 **Soo leave me a review! Tell me what you think! Until next time!**


End file.
